Rumnog and the Perfect Gift
by sweet-surrender5
Summary: A GSR Christmas fic! Grissom follows traditions and Sara...well, Sara has a Christmas far different than she's ever had. Please R and R!
1. Chapter 1

a/n: Alright, the smell of gingerbread is in the air and your Grandma's yelling for a turkey baster -- you know what that means! Christmas time!!! So, of course, what do you? Run away and cuddle up and read a Christmas fic!!! So, here's my little fic for your enjoyment...Hope you like it!! Thanks to **TB **for the beta...I'm pretty sure her coworkers weren't happy when I made her snort at the stomach contents thing...

* * *

**Rumnog and the Perfect Gift **

**_Part One_**

* * *

Christmas Eve. What a great time to be at the lab. 

Grissom sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork. A scene, he could deal with. Give him something to occupy his mind with. But paperwork? Oh no, paperwork was like the death penalty…and the executioner was Ecklie. The sudden image popped into his head of Ecklie in a traditional executioner's costume and he couldn't help but laugh. Ecklie in black leather – if the noose didn't kill you, the sight would.

Smiling to himself, he put the pen back down to the paper, chuckling a little.

"And what, may I ask, is so funny?"

He looked up to see Catherine walking into his office, her bag in one hand, her other behind her back. She was smiling, obviously glad to see _him_ smile, a sight that had been becoming more frequent in the past few months.

"You don't even wanna know…" he said, trying to stop himself from laughing again. Catherine just smiled and nodded, having no idea what was going on inside his head. She usually didn't.

"Ohhhkay... Well, I'm just gonna leave then. Shift's over and Lindsey's waiting for me," she said, leaning her hands on the back of one of the chairs in front of his desk, "I don't know how much work you've got there, but you're welcome to drop by later if you want…"

Catherine's offer was nice, but he knew that she was really asking him if he was okay being alone on Christmas. She did this every year, and he rarely complied. One year, he had. But it was a little awkward after Lindsey had gone to bed. Catherine and her boyfriend had had a little too much wine and apparently thought that Grissom couldn't see the man's hand groping her ass. After that, Grissom decided to decline her offer.

"Nah, I'll be here awhile. Anyway, you and Lindsey could use some alone time. Break out the Hungry Hippos or something," Grissom said, signing the bottom of the sheet with a flourish. Getting to the bottom of a page gave him such satisfaction that he couldn't help but do it.

"Gil, she's almost fourteen."

'Trivial Pursuit, then."

"I don't even _own _a Trivial Pursuit," Catherine said, giving him a skeptical look.

"See that's the thing. Kids these days only play those DVD games. Those Scene It thingys where all you have to do is yell at the TV...Crazy. It's not very stimulating for teens to be playing, actually. You should think about getting a good old Trivial Pur--"

"Why are we talking about this again?" Catherine interrupted him. Grissom had been rambling. Grissom only rambled to get off-topic, and he only went off-topic to get away from something he didn't want to talk about. And Catherine liked finding out what Grissom didn't want her to find out.

"You sure you don't want to come over? Or do you have plans…" She said slyly. Grissom didn't look up at her. He couldn't force himself to. He could feel heat creeping up from his collar and his throat got scratchy.

_Damn, I'm a bad liar…Don't. Say. Anything, _he commanded himself, _the easiest form of deception is to not lie, but to simply omit from telling the truth… _

Oh, Grissom _did _have plans, alright. But telling Catherine anything wasn't one of them

"Catherine. I'm busy. I really just want to get this mountain of paperwork finished so that I can go home and enjoy my usual rum and eggnog. And right now, you're the only thing stopping me from doing that. So, Merry Christmas, and to _you _a good night," Grissom said, still not looking at her. He was pretending to read the sheet, but all he saw was a random jumble of words.

"Whoa, Grinch much?" She laughed. She then proceeded to pull a glass from behind her back and place it on his desk, the normally yellow liquid tinged with amber sloshing against the sides of the glass. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Let's just say that the jar in the experiments fridge labeled "Kathleen Elm's Stomach Contents" isn't what Ecklie thinks it is. Merry Christmas, Gil…" She said, laughing as she headed for the door. Grissom picked up the rum and eggnog with a chuckle and raised it to her back.

"Cheers."

* * *

An hour and a half later, he'd finished both the paperwork and his drink. The paperwork in record time…the drink? Not so much. He was early. That was good. Very good. Rubbing his hands together, he left his office and locked the door. He was a man on a mission. 

"Hey, Gil!" He heard a familiar voice shout as he left the lobby. He rolled his eyes and turned to see Brass jogging after him.

"Hey, Jim. I was just on my way out…" Grissom said, trying to shuffle towards the door. Brass followed, obviously missing the hint.

"Don't tell me you were gonna leave without saying Merry Christmas. C'mon, let's go out for a drink or something, eh buddy?" He said excitedly. Grissom groaned internally.

_How come everyone feels sorry for me on Christmas Eve? _

"Uhh, actually I have somewhere to be, Jim. Thanks for the offer though. I should be going…give Ellie a call this year, will ya?"

Brass smiled.

"She's waiting at home."

Grissom was surprised to hear that. Every year he chided Brass to call his daughter, but he rarely did. He never saw the point in it because she never used to call back. The knowledge that she was in Vegas for Christmas with her father brought a genuine smile to his face.

"Good to know. Merry Christmas, Jim."

Brass stopped as they got out in the parking lot. He watched for a minute as Grissom headed to his car, but was surprised when he passed the light blue Mercedes-Benz and walked out of the parking garage. It was then that he shook his head and realized how truly odd his old friend was.

* * *

The air was a little cold this time of year. It was no Arctic, but there was a definite chill that Grissom could feel through his thick jacket. He wouldn't be outside long; only a few more blocks and he'd be there. He hadn't felt like driving. Sometimes a good crisp walk is all you need to clear your head. 

Letting out a small sigh, he plodded along down the sidewalk, thinking about what he was going to do tonight. He felt something cold on his ear, and then his hand. Looking up, he saw a small white flake drift down and land on his eyelash.

It was snowing.

The last time he'd seen snow in Vegas had been…Gosh, it had been at lease six or seven years. And all it had done then was remind him of the ski trip he'd taken with his family when he was eight and his father had helped him build a snowman.

Oh yes, that was right. That was the Christmas six years ago when he'd woken up to find a whole bottle of Chivas Regal missing…and he found it in quite and unpleasant manner shortly thereafter. But now, something about seeing the little white flakes drift down lazily, illuminated brightly by the lights of the city, he couldn't help but feel a little bit of affection for it.

By the time he had gotten to his destination, Grissom realized that he was humming to himself. What Christmas song, exactly, he didn't know. But it was a Christmas song nonetheless.

_Since when have I hummed Christmas songs? _He wondered, opening the glass door. But he had no more time to ponder as a sales representative attacked him the moment he stepped onto the deep red carpet.

"Hello sir, how may I help you today?" A perky young man in a tailored outfit said. Grissom internally cursed sales commission.

"I'm just here to pick something up…Could you tell me where I'd go for that?" The young man smiled (oh so phony) and told Grissom where Customer Services was and proceeded to pounce on the next guy who came through the door.

Grissom walked slowly through the store, squinting at the merchandise and watching people do last minute shopping. Very last minute. In fact, 9:00pm on Christmas Eve was about as late as it got. He was really glad that he'd been able to get Swing Shift for tonight.

"Ahh. Mr. Grissom," came an older man's deep voice from behind the counter, "You're lucky, it came in _just _in time…" The man handed him a velvet bag and smiled. Grissom felt the texture of the purple material for a moment, staring at it. He barely looked back up at the man before leaving.

"Perfect…"

* * *

He figured he had a half hour to spare by his schedule. It was still snowing as he walked down the street. His hand rubbed against the velvet in his pocket, his brain running so fast that he forgot how cold he was. He still needed some more time to think, time to be alone. 

He knew exactly where to go.

He kept his eyes on the ground, watching as little pieces of snow collected in the cracks of the sidewalk. His feet just knew where to go and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the solid oak doors, music drifting to his ears from the small open window to the left of him.

Grissom didn't regularly go to church. He wasn't one of those people who go at just Christmas and Easter, either. He just went on impulse. He didn't go to pray when he needed something, and he didn't go when he felt guilty. He could talk to God at home. God, he believed in. Church, not so much. But, in keeping with family traditions, he went every so often to think.

Entering quietly, he sat in the back like he usually did. As a small young people's choir rang for a small audience, he thought about the year that was soon to pass. He'd changed a lot since last Christmas. His habits, his attitude and his life outside of work…he was different. And he had to admit, as hard as it had been to change; he liked how he was now.

Practicing what he was going to say and do in his head, Grissom played with the soft velvet in his pocket until he realized what he was doing and stopped, afraid that he would worry the fabric to rags.

He sat there, listening to the voices swirling around him and the candles and dim lights casting shadows across marble floors until he realized what time it was. He only had fifteen minutes to get back home. Looking to his left, he saw a small blonde boy sitting in the pew, playing with his hat. Grissom smiled to himself, reminded of 'Home Alone'. He reached into his pocker and pulled out the candy cane that Greg had given him earlier. He slid it along the bench so it hit the boy in the thigh. When he looked up, Grissom winked, and then he was gone.

* * *

a/n: Reviews are like Christmas presents!! So get into the giving and reciveing mood and tell me what you thought...I'd honestly like to know! Even if its to tell me what you want for Christmas, just do it. (Personally, some train tickets to Providence would have a welcome place under my tree, but that's just hopeful wishing...lol). Thanks for reading and happy (non-commion & non-violent) Christmas shopping!!

Oh, and I'll post Part Two later on this week hopefully.


	2. Chapter 2

a/n: Here's part two for your merry enjoyment! Hope you all like it. It's decidedly cheesy and stereotypical, but hey, 'tis the season, gimme a break. Hah. Thanks to **TroddenBlack **for the beta!

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**Rumnog and the Perfect Gift**

**_Part Two_**

Sara sat alone on Christmas Eve.

She swirled the dark red liquid around in the glass. She really wasn't much of a wine-drinker, but something about the deep and rich color seemed decidedly romantic. And seeing as at the moment she was alone, she could do with some romance.

Usually, she'd be out at a party or something, pretending to have a good time. (key word: _pretending_). She had last year, and the year before that, and the year before that…But this year she just sat with her legs folded under her, staring at the miniature Christmas tree she'd set up and listening to 'Santa Baby'.

Humming to herself, she slowly slid down on the couch until she was lying out along it, her head on the armrest. She set her wine glass down next to the little two-foot Christmas tree on the side table, complete with its own mini set of lights. Hey, just because all of her Christmases sucked didn't mean that she couldn't decorate. Each year she hoped that it would be better than the last, and it rarely ever happened.

"Santa, baby…hmm hmm hmm hmm…the tree for me…hmm hmmm hmm hmm…so hurry down the chimney tonight…" She sang words here and there, tapping her toes against the opposite armrest. Okay, she didn't like Christmas songs either, but she had a thing for Marilyn Monroe...and Audrey Hepburn. She wasn't really a girly girl, but Sara's guilty pleasure was old Hollywood movies. Sit her down with a copy of 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' and she was set.

"…a '54 convertible too, light blue…"

That reminded her of Grissom's little 'muscle car'. She had to admit, it _did _look a little like a mid-life crisis splurge, but something about seeing his face when he drove it was oddly endearing. She continued her random intervals of humming and singing until she heard herself sing,

"Grissom, honey, one little thing that I need…"

Her eyes shot open and she smiled, finding it funny how she'd just accidentally blurted that out. And then it struck her as hilarious how well that his name fit into the song.

"I've been an angel all year, Grissom, baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight..." She sang a little louder, her amusement apparent in her voice. No one was going to hear her anyway, so she began singing the rest of the words, shimmying her shoulders to the rhythm.

"Grissom, cutie, and fill my stocking with a duplex and cheques--" The alarm on her oven went off and she got up to check on her meal, still singing, "Sign your 'x' on the line, Grissom, cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight!"

She pulled out the tray with an oven mitt, the warm smell of stuffing and spices wafting up to greet her. She'd made it especially from a vegetarian recipe book she'd bought the other week. Lasagna noodles, stuffing and mashed potatoes. It sounded a little 'iffy', but she'd decided to chance it. She couldn't remember the last time she had stuffing.

Wiggling her butt as she sang, she went in search of a spatula to pry the lasagna from the dish.

"Come and trim my Christmas tree, with some decorations bought at Tiffany's…I really do believe in you, let's see if you believe in me!"

She found the spatula and started cutting at the edges, still dancing.

"Grissom baby," She sang _really loudly _this time, using her spatula as a microphone, "I hope you're not at the lab, what a drag!…So Grissom baby, hurry down the--"

She was started by the sound of the door opening and promptly jerked the spatula away from its incriminating position in front of her mouth. It flung itself down and smacked off the top layer of the lasagna with a loud _thwack._ She held her hand in front of her mouth, trying to contain a laugh.

"What on earth was that?"

Sara turned to see Grissom closing the door of his townhouse behind him. His curls were dotted with white flakes and there were a few clinging to his long eyelashes. God, he looked gorgeous. She couldn't hold back a smile, both at her embarrassing impromptu add-lib session and how good Grissom looked.

"Oh, nothing."

"Hm. Well, nothing smells _good_," he stated, shaking off his jacket. He slid up behind her, pressing his chest tightly to her back and running his large hands down her arms.

"Mm, you're warm…" He said, his tone deep and sexy. He buried his nose into her neck and he felt her stiffen.

"..and you're _freezing_," She laughed, setting down the utensil as his hands sought out hers.

"Is that an offer. Ms. Sidle?" He said in her ear. She laughed and turned, catching his mouth with hers. He kissed her slowly, tasting of snow and longing. After a lingering moment, he pulled away and leaned over her shoulder to look at the dish on the counter.

"So what's this '_nothing' _you speak of? It looks delicious…"

* * *

They sat opposite each other as they ate at his breakfast bar. Sara asked him how his shift was, but other than that, not much was said. Every now and then, he'd look up and see her looking at him, her deep eyes glowing in the soft light of the lamp. He'd smile with one side of his mouth and look straight back at her until he couldn't take it anymore. 

It was a little game they played. They would speak through their eyes and actions instead of words. They most often did it in the lab, so that they could communicate without the others noticing. But that day in the break room when she'd fixed him with a foxy stare and slowly drew those long, pale fingers up her forearm…God, it was one of his favorite things to do.

He felt something in the pit of his stomach that he hadn't felt in a long time; butterflies. He still kept going over what he was going to say in his head. Thinking about how he'd say it, what he would do, wondering what her reaction would be…Before he knew it, they were both finished, and she was reaching for his plate. He reached out to touch her hand.

"Don't worry about it, Honey…we'll get it later," He said softly, turning her and over and tracing her palm with his finger. He loved her hands -- always soft and beautiful. Even Davinci couldn't have painted such beautiful hands. With a shy grin, he led her around the breakfast bar and to the couch, where she sat with her head on his shoulder. That was when he noticed the glittering object that hadn't been there the day before.

"You set up a Christmas tree?" He said in amusement, gesturing towards the miniature tree on his side table. Sara shrugged.

"Your living room needed...ambience."

"I see...well if you ask me, all I really needs to light up this place is you," He flirted, flicking at one of the faux branches with his fingers. She smiled into his broad shoulder. Sara loved when he flirted with her.

"So how was work?" She asked. Grissom held up his right forefinger and she noticed a thin line of red on the tip.

"That bad?"

He laughed and set his hand down on his knee, pressing his nose to the top of her hair. She smelled good. A quiet moment passed as they watched the snow fall lightly outside of the window. He tried to speak, but found that the words just wouldn't come out.

First chance, gone.

Suddenly, he felt Sara shift and she scurried off to their bedroom with the promise of being back in a moment. As soon as she was out of sight, he took the velvet bag from his jacket pocket and reached behind the CD rack to recover its boxed counterpart. He quickly fixed them up and placed them safely in his pants pocket before she returned.

He was leaning on the armrest of the couch when she returned with a wrapped item and an envelope, a shy smile on her face. Holding out the wrapped gift to him, she winked.

"This one first."

He felt a little awkward accepting it from her. Then again, receiving gifts from _anyone _was a little awkward to him. He pulled off the red wrapping paper to find a book of quotes bound in a dark blue leather cover. Smiling, he thanked her and she handed him the envelope.

He opened it slowly and pulled out two plane tickets to Chicago. With a quizzical look at her, he held them up facing her.

"Chicago?"

She smiled, and gestured to the envelope again.

"Look inside."

He did so, and noticed two smaller tickets inside the envelope. Pulling them out, the smile on his face must have been up 3000 watts. It was two tickets to a Chicago Cubs game. Nearly knocking her over, he surrounded her with his arms, pulling her in and rocking on his feet.

"Well you said it was a beautiful game, so I knew you liked baseball," She said, surprised at his reaction.

"But how did you know it was the Cubs?" he asked, laughing into her collarbone.

"Well if you cooked once in a while, you'd remember that your oven mitt has the Cubs logo on it!" Sara jabbed playfully, squeezing his waist.

"It's not my fault I don't know many veggie recipes! I was brought up on meat and potatoes -- my dad was in touch with his Irish side…" Grissom said, his body starting to relax a little.

"Thank you," He said softly, and then he placed small kisses up her neck, finally landing on her lips, where they stayed for a while. The kiss grew deeper after a few moments and with a growl he pulled her back so that he could lean on the sofa again. Firmly, he pulled her between his legs, getting lost in the moment. Things heated up quite fast, and soon she was moving against him and his head had rolled back, his fingers digging into her hips. He knew he should stop her. After all, he still had to give her the present…but it just felt so damn good.

"Stop, hon…please..." He moaned quietly, attempting to pull his head back up. But he felt so light-headed…She wouldn't stop though, and after a moment to gather himself, he managed to use his strong arms to push her away.

"What is it, Griss?" She asked. He opened his mouth to tell her, but once more, he found that the words were lost.

Second chance, gone.

He grabbed both of her hands and held them in front of her. He stood up and kissed her softly on the cheek, taking a deep breath.

"I haven't given you your gift yet," his voice was low and husky and Sara was starting to feel her heart race. His blue eyes searched hers and he slowly let go of her hands and reached into his pocket, pulling out the velvet bag.

"I…I, uh…I know I've told you this before, Sara, but…I care about you a lot. You mean so much to me and I really like having you around, being with you, a-and living together…" Grissom seemed almost bashful as he held the bag out to her slowly, watching with trepidation as she took it from him.

Her slender fingers shook slightly as she pulled out a thin silver chain from the bag. It caught the soft glow of the miniature Christmas tree lights and glittered. When she pulled the entire thing out, she noticed its pendant…

A ring set in white gold hung in the middle of the chain. It was simple, yet breathtaking. Three small white diamonds sat on top, glittering almost as brightly as Grissom's eyes as he watched her. Swallowing he nodded towards it.

"Look at the inside."

Sara, at a loss for words, looked at the inner side of the ring, where the letters of her name were elegantly engraved. Bringing the necklace down from eye level, she looked at him with watery eyes. He held out a hand and took from her it to clasp around her neck while she held her hair up.

Grissom stood back for a moment to admire it on her, the way it looked against her pale skin and how it perfectly framed her collarbone. Then he could not resist it any longer and placed his warm hand on either side of her graceful neck, pressing his mouth to hers.

"Merry Christmas," He said only when he had to breathe. A tear spilled down one of her cheeks and he kissed it away. By now it was ricocheting off of his insides, looking desperately for a way to come out, but he couldn't force it out of his throat. He pulled her down onto the couch where he held her for a while, swallowing hard and trying to work up the courage to just say it. When she leaned in to kiss him softly, he decided to do it.

"I love you."

Sara froze, unsure if she'd actually heard it. It sounded more like a quick mumble of words agasint her lips. Her eyes widened and she pulled away a little to look at him.

"What?"

Grissom's eyes widened at first when she said that, not really expecting that reaction. A million things ran thorugh his head then, and he started to wonder if he was about to be rejected. Then Sara held a hand up to her ear and the lines around his eyes creased as he smiled. A deep chuckle rolled from his chest and he relized that she hadn't heard him clearly enough. God, Sara could be so funny sometimes.

He looked at her then; really looked at her. She looked so radiant in the soft glow of the lamp on his desk. The necklace glittered at him, gracefully hung from her collarbones. And the look in her eyes...he couldn't have traded words with Shakespeare to describe that look.

"I love you," he repeated, louder this time and more confident. Sara seemed to have gotten over the shock of it all and yanked on his collar, pulling him into a passionate kiss, mumbling 'I love you' when she needed to breathe. After a while, he pulled away and pulled her into his chest.

"I want to love you forever," he stated quietly. She smiled and wrestled herself out of his arms. Holding out a hand, she helped him up and headed for the bedroom with a misceivious smile. Grissom smiled back, knowing that this was going to be extra special, a connection deeper than they'd ever felt.

* * *

The sun was coming up over Vegas when Grissom pulled her close against him with a small sated sigh. He'd finally said he loved her. He was on a high he was unsure he'd ever come off of. He never knew how good it would feel to say those words to her...He was glad he planned it out to be just perfect. It may not have happened right away, but as they say, the third time's the charm. 

And if you were to ask either of them what specific Christmas out of all their Christmases stood out as particularly good, they would give you the same answer; that particular Christmas Eve was the best. The very best.

After all, they say that the best gift you could ever give to someone is the gift of love.

the end.

* * *

a/n: Awww...some mucho fluff -- perfect for Christmas. Now, all I need ('put the angel on the tree', you could say) to top it off is some nice reviews! Hahaha. Merry Christmas, guys...now hurry up and get that turkey baster, your Grandma's getting antsy!! 


End file.
